Turncoat
by kosopic
Summary: <html><head></head>In exchange for paying off her father's debt, she agreed to work for the Templars if it meant she would stop starving. But after being captured she gave up information for her freedom. She decided to switch sides and now faces an uncertain future. It matters little, though. She became a turncoat. And now the Templars want her head.</html>


**A/N: Hello all. I hope you're doing well. Since Ubisoft seems to be moving to other ventures, I thought I would take matters into my own hands and make a Connor sequel/story since he deserves a proper ending. It doesn't seem like they'll finish his story anytime soon. Apologies if this chapter seems a bit messy, I was trying to get the bare minimum necessary info in here. Any other information will be reveled later (huzzah for exposition!). I hope you all enjoy! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY CANON ASSASSIN'S CREED III CHARACTERS. ANY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ARE MINE.**

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><p>"No servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money." – Luke 16:13<p>

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><p><strong>June 1786 – Philadelphia, Pennsylvania<strong>

James Davinier and his right-hand man, Don Heverford, were led down a narrow passageway in the prison. The little light from the mid-afternoon sun peaked through the barred windows, high on the brick walls. Normally both men, who were of a respectable background, would avoid journeying to places such as this. But it was different this time. They had heard a rumor – well, more like Don had heard a rumor – about a certain prisoner that would prove useful to them. They were being led to the cell by some scrawny looking solider who had to force himself to not jump at the sound of metal clanging.

"What is it you want with this prisoner, again?" the solider asked, briefly looking over his shoulder at the two gentlemen.

"They are my family," Davinier was quick respond to the question. He had rehearsed any possible answers they might have been asked. Davinier hoped he sounded genuine. "I have the money to pay the bail and wish to see my family home."

"Ah," was the simple reply from the solider. The three of them walked down a set of stairs to a level underground. As they rounded a corner, the solider spoke again. "This is where we keep our more…'valuable' prisoners. Those set with a high bail and not likely to get out any time soon."

"How very cheery," Don said sarcastically as he looked into the cells. It was a most pitiful sight. Most of those caged were ragged looking and covered in dirt and their own filth. Further down the hall was a woman screaming. Not saying anything, just screaming in agony. The solider visibly shuddered and pulled out a ring of keys from his belt.

"Here they are," the solider said, pulling the iron-wrought door open. He stood aside so that Davinier and Don could walk inside. The solider had been baffled when Davinier said he would want to go into their cell, but at the sight of a fat coin purse, he shut up altogether.

"Lucientes, I presume?" Davinier asked, looking down at the person before them.

"That is my mother's last name," they said. "If you are to address me using my last name, the correct one to use would be Espinosa."

"My apologies," Davinier dipped his tricorne hat and held it in his hands. Don mimicked him and looked curiously at the prisoner. "Latin names often confuse me from their length. I never know which name to use when addressing such a person."

Lucientes looked up at them, no amusement on their face. "Well…now you know."

Davinier chuckled, "Indeed I do. But, allow me to introduce myself. I am James Nathaniel Davinier. This is my good friend, Don Heverford." Davinier was mildly surprised that she spoke English so well. He expected her to have some kind of accent.

Lucientes looked bored and shrugged. "And I should care why?" At that response, Davinier gave a knowing look to Don. The latter nodded and turned towards the solider.

"May we have a minute alone?" Don asked. The solider shook his head.

"The warden would have my head if I left. I have strict orders to stay." Don flashed money in the man's face. Immediately the soldier's demeanor changed.

"Just a minute. No more than that," Don said smoothly. The solider looked conflicted and gnawed his lip. Looking around to make sure no other guards were around, he took the money and shoved it in his coat pocket.

"Be quick," was all the said before they rounded the corner and out of sight.

"Thank you, Don," Davinier said with a smile. Don simply nodded and stood at attention. Lucientes chuckled and whistled lowly.

"What is a _Yanqui _like you doing with all that _dinero_?" Lucientes asked.

"That's partially why we're here," Don interjected. Lucientes sat up and looked both men in the eye.

"I am listening."

Davinier smiled. "Miss Georgina," he began, "your father, whether you are aware of this or not, had a considerable debt to both our organization and to several friends back in Mexico. He was a bit of a gambler, as I recall."

"_Si_, I am aware of my father's debts," Georgina replied. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"We are getting to that. Patience, please Miss Espinosa," Davinier said. "Now, most if not all your father's debts in Mexico have been paid off. Thanks in part to your…deeds." Georgina rolled her eyes. "However, there is the outstanding matter of the debts your father owed us. Our associates down in Mexico have transferred this situation to us, due to you being here. In prison."

"I thought you said you were getting to the point. All I am hearing is a bunch of _majaderías_. That is 'nonsense' in English, in case you were wondering," Georgina said, her patience growing thin.

Davinier huffed and crossed his arms. He continued, ignoring her comment. "With the money your father owes us, we can start our organization fresh again. The fact of the matter is: you help us pay it off, and me, along with my associates, will pay your bail money and provide you with clean clothes, food and a home."

Georgina scoffed and looked at the two men disbelievingly. "You are bluffing," she quipped. It sounded too good to be true.

"I assure you, Miss Espinosa, we are not," Don said. Georgina scoffed again. She would gladly leap at the offer. After living on the streets for years, scraping for food and warmth and not finding any comfort anywhere. To actually have it again…not having to fight for it…

"How much did my father owe you?" Georgina asked.

"Six thousand pounds."

"That much?!" Georgina practically shrieked.

"Yes, unfortunately so." She groaned and leaned her head against the wall. That was so much money. How long would she be paying for her father's mistakes? Georgina sighed and looked at the two men again. At first Georgina briefly considered turning down their offer. How would she pay off all that money? But if they were sincere on their promise, then maybe she could find the will, the resolve to do so.

"You swear you will give me what you promise? Food, shelter?"

Davinier placed a hand over his heart. "I so swear to the Lord Jesus himself."

Georgina looked at the two men hard before standing up. "_Bien_, we have a deal." She held out her hand, which Davinier gladly took and shook with a firm grip.

"Glad you could see to reason," Davinier said, almost cheerfully.

"Allow me to make one thing clear: I am not doing this for you. I have other reasons."

"Fair enough," Don said. Davinier nodded in agreement.

"I would not expect you to agree with our morals anyway," Davinier added.

"I do not even know who you people are," Georgina said as she was helped out of her cell by Don.

"All will be explained in due time," was all he said. Both men helped escort Georgina to the prison's entrance. Davinier, in a separate room, paid the warden her bail money while Don helped finalize her release. After an hour or so of dealing with papers, Don left to pull up the carriage at the entrance leaving Davinier alone with Georgina.

She basked in the warmth of the sun, smiling wide, but the brightness hurt her eyes. It had been so long since Georgina had seen daylight. The warm, early summer air made her feel light and giddy. She took in deep breaths to enjoy the fresh air more.

"How long were you locked away for?" Davinier asked, watching Georgina bask in the sunlight like a flower. It was strange to him to see such a reaction, but it was because she had been locked away for so long.

"Two or three months? I cannot remember exactly. Time moves so much slower in prison. All the days just…melt together." Georgina said, not even bothering to look at Davinier. Her eyes were closed and she craned her head back. Georgina was enjoying being outside too much to bother if she looked foolish or not.

"That is an awfully long time," Davinier mused aloud. Georgina made a noise in response, acknowledging she had at least heard him. Don pulled up to them with the carriage. Georgina had been momentarily snapped out of her reprieve and looked at the carriage as Don pulled to a stop. He stepped down from the driver's seat and opened the door, holding out his other hand for the lady to take.

"My lady," Don said. Georgina chuckled and gingerly took Don's hand.

"I am as common as paper. Nowhere near being a lady," Georgina smirked as she stepped into the carriage. The seats were plush and adorned with a beautiful floral pattern. Georgina felt like a princess, sitting in the carriage, even if she didn't really look the part. Dirt caked her face and hair and her dress was threadbare, barely holding together. Davinier took the seat opposite of her and with that, Don closed the door and took his seat outside on the perch. Georgina looked outside the window, watching the Philadelphia scenery go by.

"_Señor_ Davinier?" Georgina asked, still looking out the window.

"Yes?"

"Now that we are away from public ears, will you know enlighten me on what it is I must do to repay my father's debt?" She turned her head from the window and looked at him. Georgina's large, dark eyes bore into Davinier and showed some curiosity.

"Hmm…why, yes. I think that would be alright," Davinier said. "But first I need to confirm some rumors I heard, concerning you."

"Such as…?"

"We are looking to do some business with recent arrivals from France. Unfortunately, my French is not what it used to be. Do you speak it? Fluently? I am aware you served on several French vessels."

"Dressed as boy, yes," Georgina added. Her days at sea were a part of the small handful of cheerful memories she had. Most of the rest was blocked by all her recent hardships. "_Mais oui_, I speak some French. Mostly conversational, however. I am not entirely fluent."

"That's fine, conversational will do just fine," Davinier said with a reassuring smile. "Are there any other languages you speak?" Georgina explained how English and Spanish were the best languages she knew, with French coming in at third. She knew some small phrases in Portuguese and Dutch. Davinier seemed very pleased to hear this and Georgina felt herself become more curious

"This business, what is it that you do?" she asked him.

"I was a courier, but now I deal a different kind of information," he answered. Georgina scrunched her nose. That was not much of an answer in her opinion. She was starting to think she was wrong to take his offer. Perhaps it wasn't too late to back out?

"We have arrived," Don called from the outside, pulling the carriage horses to a stop. Yes, it really was too late now. Georgina shifted a nervous glance to Davinier before the door opened. Before stepping out, Davinier placed a hand on her shoulder. Georgina looked at his hand uncomfortably before looking up at his face.

"I understand you must be nervous. With my being so cryptic, but trust me when I say, you will not regret the deal you have made," Davinier gave his best reassuring smile before letting go of Georgina. She felt more confused now more than ever and didn't bother to take Don's hand to help her out of the carriage.

They had stopped just outside the city in front of a grand looking house. At least to Georgina's modest background, it seemed grand. It was like a stately manor she had seen etchings of. The home was three stories high, made of red brick. Everything that trimmed the house was white: the front door, the window shutters and panes, the pillars that held up the second story balcony and the fences that lined the property and patios. It was like something out of a fairytale to Georgina.

It was Don that stopped her gawking with a tap to her shoulder and led them both inside. If the outside was beautiful, then it was absolutely gorgeous on the inside. Turkish rugs lined the shining hardwood floors in the front entrance. Down the same passageway were two small tables that sat low to the floor, decorated with vases filled with fresh flowers and fine pottery. Georgina looked in awe around her. This really was an incredible house. She felt like exploring, feeling like a child again when she explored the abandoned forts near her hometown.

"This way, Georgina," Davinier said. He held out his arm to the left where a large archway opened up to a grand study room. Already inside there were three men and a woman seated throughout the plush room. She followed Don and Davinier and the four strangers sat up at their presence.

"Grand Master," they all greeted in unison.

"'Grand Master'?" Georgina repeated, quirking a brow in confusion. Only two of the four strangers looked towards Georgina. The woman smiled politely and approached her.

"This is the new recruit?" she asked. The woman's voice was soft and smooth, reminiscent of velvet. She stood at least two heads taller than Georgina and her presence commanded respect.

"That is the hope," Don replied with a smirk. He sat down on one of the chairs near a fire, despite the warmth of the afternoon.

"So skinny," the woman mused with a frown. "When was the last time you had a decent meal?" she asked tucking her fingers under Georgina's chin, getting a better look at her.

"Many years ago?" was Georgina's weak and confused answer. The woman nearly gasped and her faced morphed into one of pity.

"You poor dear," the woman moaned. She sighed dramatically and placed her free hand on her chest.

Georgina couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed at what was going on. Her face warmed, her cheeks flushed and Georgina turned her head away. The woman's gaze felt scrutinizing, making her feel uncomfortable.

"What was her name again?" one of the men asked. Davinier simply gestured to Georgina, his way of saying she should introduce herself.

"Georgina, but you can call me G. If you prefer," she responded. Lord, how awkward she felt!

"Well then," Davinier started, standing beside her, "may I present my associates: Katherine Mason," the woman curtsied, "Samuel Baker," a skinny brunette gave a quick bow, "Richard Young," the man who asked for her name bowed, "and Gerard Chappuis," the young man gave an unnecessary elaborate bow. After introductions were made, Davinier clapped his hands. "On to business then.

"Georgina, the reason we have come to you is because we would like for you to help us. Our mission is very simple: we wish to help those who cannot help themselves. Mankind is a very fickle creature, always jumping around from one passion to the next, making mistake after mistake – never taking into consideration about how his actions affect others. Me, and my associates, help to correct that mistake. We help guide the passionate till their hearts have cooled; we help those who have wandered from the road of order.

"We seek to maintain a perfect world; one of order and purpose. Not chaos and savagery. With your help, we believe we can do all this, and possibly more. I do not expect you to agree with all our ideas and creeds, but I hope you will at least believe in our general goals. They will benefit everyone, from the lowly beggar woman to the richest men in England. We seek to fix corrupt empires and governments." Davinier paused, letting his words soak in Georgina's mind.

As he spoke, Georgina took in all his words. It seemed that whoever these people were, they seemed to have noble intentions. But she wasn't entirely convinced. If she were to be honest with herself, Georgina thought these people were mad. To her, it seemed these people wanted power more than anything. She stayed quiet and downcast her eyes, letting her silence speak for herself.

"I understand you must have doubts, I would as well. If you were to automatically agree with me, I would think you a fool for not questioning me, or show an hesitance just as you are doing now," Davinier said. "But I think, if you let us _show_ you, what it is we plan to do, then you will consider joining us. If not, you at least need to pay off your father's debt to us. That much is certain."

Georgina briefly glanced at Davinier before looking down again. What could she possibly say? At hearing all this, she was at a loss for words. Georgina knew there was no way she could join this merry band of misfits. She didn't have that kind of conviction in her heart to join their ranks, and didn't agree with their ideals entirely. But she did have a sense of duty when it came to family, and she would take on her father's burden. Whatever consequences there may be, Georgina would deal with those when the time came. Taking a deep breath, Georgina stood up straight and squared her shoulders.

"I will pay off my father's debt, and no more than that. If, when the time comes, I wish to join…your organization, I shall make that desire known. Until then, I am simply a business partner. Nothing more."

Davinier merely nodded, deeming her answer acceptable and reasonable. "Very well. I hope you do change your mind as time comes. We would enjoy your skills in our order. We did our part by paying your bail. Now it is time for you to hold up your end of the bargain."

"We shall see," Georgina replied. She took a step forward towards Davinier. "What am I to do, then?"


End file.
